


Farewell to Canary

by writewithurheart



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: After Episode 3x01: The Calm, Character Death, F/F, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Speculation, non-canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-11-06
Packaged: 2018-02-21 05:44:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2456996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writewithurheart/pseuds/writewithurheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My take on character's reactions to Sara's death. After 3x01, but before 3x02. Series of drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You Don't Need to Worry About Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is how I imagine characters reacting to Sara's death. It's the result of speculation. I do not own Arrow or any characters.

**You Don’t Need to Worry About Me**

“I’m fine, John. I promise. Of as fine as anyone could be given the circumstances.”

He watches her skeptically, but he’s forced to agree as she systematically transfers still-gooey cookies from the metal cookie tray to a china plate with a yellow canary painted on the bottom. Like the rest of them, her eyes are puffy and red from crying, but she’s put together even in her misery and holding her head high. He doesn’t know what he expected: fewer rambles, maybe a lingering scent of mint ice cream. He expected to find her with her whole life falling apart.

“I mean, it’s not easy. We all lost a good friend. Sara was amazing. She was a hero we can’t replace, not that we need to replace her. It’s just...she was nice to me. And we actually got to be friends...we went to this one coffee shop every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. We would just sit there and people watch until I had to go to work or we needed to head to the Foundry. Or we would just talk. And now there’s so much I want to talk to her about, but she’s not here...”

Digg pulls her into his arms as tears drown out her words, rubbing her back sympathetically. He’d never been one to cry. His father had firmly believed that the Diggle men stood tall and strong, comforting others with their strength in the wake of tragedy. But that doesn’t stop the rising sorrow in his gut that threatens to overflow when he thinks on it too much. Sara was his comrade in arms, a dear friend.

“You’re not fine, Felicity,” he sighs. “None of us are.”

She pulls away, dabbing her tears away with the box of tissues that hasn’t strayed far from her person since they got the news, since Laurel brought her friend’s body down to the Foundry. “She was teaching me to fight, you know. Since the whole thing with Slade, she’s been swinging by – her or Nyssa, sometimes both – and they’ve been working with me. I mean, it’s not that I’m any good, but I can defend myself more now. And I was getting better.”

“I didn’t know she’d been back to the city.” He watches her carefully as she continues her baking.

She shoots him a smile over her shoulder. “It was never for very long, and she didn’t want everyone to know. She checked in one me and her father, but that was it. And it was always a surprise. I keep expecting her to just show up out of the blue and ask why we’re so sad.”

He accepts her proffered cookie as she wraps the plate, pausing to stare at the shiny aluminum foil before she shakes herself from her stupor.  “How’re Lyla and the baby?”

“When I left both were sleeping. With our jobs, we’re already used to not getting much sleep, but with a baby it’s different. But she’s so beautiful...” He stops as he realizes he’s smiling into space and Felicity is watching him with her own sad smile.

“We should get going,” Digg suggests, pulling the car keys from the pocket of his black pants.

Felicity sniffles. “Yeah, we should go get Oliver.” She grabs her plate, following Digg out the door.

“How are the two of you?” He’s hesitant to ask the question because he knows what Oliver did, maybe not in as many words but he knows how Oliver thinks, especially when it comes to their girl.

She shrugs in response, lifting her eyes to his across the roof of his car. “I can’t wait around for him to figure everything out. I love him, John, but I can’t wait for a future that might not come. Part of me will always love him, but I’m not going to spend my life waiting. We’re still friends. And I’m still his girl.” She smiles sadly, sliding into the passenger seat.

He reaches out to rest a hand on her shoulder as he slides the key into the ignition. She nods in recognition of his comfort before facing forward.

“Let’s take this one step at a time: First, we need to get Mr. Broody-Arrow out of the Foundry and to the funeral. He’s not missing this one.”

As they pull into the Foundry parking lot, he spots Laurel’s car already parked by the entrance. Digg glances sideways again, wondering how Felicity will take this. She only pauses a moment before exiting the car and leading the way down to their base and Oliver’s temporary home.

“Ollie! Please! You have to train me! I need to get whoever did this!”

They hear Laurel’s voice before they find her screaming at Oliver as he sits on his cot. Digg sighs in annoyance at the girl. He understands the drive to work through grief, the need for revenge is something he’s familiar with, but he’s not a fan of the pull Laurel has over Oliver. It’s not healthy for either of them.

“I’m not going to train you, Laurel. Revenge is not the answer. I will find who did this, but she wouldn’t want you to get dragged down in this when your life is going so well.”

Felicity steps past Digg and he settles back to watch. You don’t get between Oliver and Felicity. Oliver’s eyes immediately land on her and Digg finds himself sighing at the blatant love and need in the younger man’s eyes. The stubbornness of his partners is going to be the death of him one day.

“Oliver, you need to get ready now, if we’re going to get there on time.” She speaks quietly, but she always has Oliver’s undivided attention.

He nods and moves to get changed, brushing past a furious Laurel, who attempts to waylay him again, but Felicity turns back to her computers, turning on the screens to check a couple of her searches. Laurel’s shouting continues to echo around the Foundry basement. Digg resists the urge to ask if she’s okay one more time.

“You can stop giving me that look, John.” She shoots him a look as she straightens. “I’m not going to fall to pieces. Sure in the next couple of hours, I’m going to cry and mourn my friend, but I’ve already binged on mint ice cream and wine. I’ll probably indulge in little more today. It’s not going to destroy me, so you can stop worrying. You’ve got enough on your plate as it is with the new baby. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Digg nods slowly. “I know. You’re strong. It doesn’t mean I don’t worry.”

She sighs, closing her eyes briefly as she nods her understanding. “You guys are my family, John. I couldn’t turn away from you even if I wanted to. And I don’t want to. We’re all going to get through this. And I’m going to spoil your baby girl rotten. I hope you realize that. I already found this adorable little dress that’s bright pink and green. I mean, she won’t fit into it for a while, but I also have this blanket for her. It’s purple. You’re going to love it...”

He smiles, appreciating her attempt to lighten the mood. She bobs her head again in response, stemming the flow of words as Oliver joins them. They walk quietly back to the car, Felicity surrounded by her boys, while Laurel follows angrily behind. It’s the silence that’s the most haunting as they cross town. Silence is final, silence reveals the truth in more ways than one, but they’re a family and they’re going through this together. Everything will be alright in the end. They don’t need to worry...

If only those words would always be true. But their lives are never full of certainties and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

...


	2. The Grief of the Demon's Daughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyssa's grief over Sara's death.

**The Grief of the Demon’s Daughter**

This is wrong. It isn’t meant to be like this, her love buried in the ground. She was made to fly. Sara was the yellow bird meant to forever roam the sky, free to watch over her city, over her loved ones. She was never meant to rest in the Earth.

Hot tears burn trails down her cheeks as she stares at the dark, dank hole, her hands wrapping around the canary pendant in her hand, the little bird cutting into her palm. Her father hadn’t wanted her to come today, but she wasn’t about to let that stop her from saying goodbye. This is a permanent death, she can’t scour the world and bring her bird back, and her canary had always come back before. She had set her canary free, but her canary had come home once more.

She stands apart from the mourners. She only knows a couple of their number. She was never a part of Sara’s life here. It was isolation she craved and yet company wouldn’t have been remiss in her misery. So she’s surprised when the blonde computer tech wanders over and holds out a yellow rose.

“I thought you might come.” She says, make up already smudged and eyes red from tears. “And I figured...canaries are yellow and you loved each other...so this is for you.”

Nyssa wraps her fingers around the stem, taking the beautiful flower from the babbling blonde. She remembers the girl: Felicity Smoak, the woman brave enough to face a near-invincible super soldier without any training. She had faced down Nyssa and she assassins with full knowledge of who they were. She had a pure soul. And despite herself, Nyssa found she liked the girl.

“Thank you.”

Felicity stares at the woman before turning and standing next to her in an act of support that sent another pang of sorrow to her heart. The yellow rose blurs in front of her as the tears fall faster. The emotions are too much. She wants to bore a hole in her chest and pull out her own heart. It would probably hurt less. If she could have commanded it, she would have had the whole league here to mourn the loss of such a great woman. In her short life, Sara had died twice and came back, but apparently a third miracle was too much to ask for. Whoever did this would pay. She swears it now.

Anger fuels her steps as she walks up and places the yellow rose on top of the casket, leaning down to kiss the wood over her lover’s face she whispers in Arabic, “You will be avenged, little bird. Let your soul fly free like the canary you were named for.”

It’s Quentin Lance who walks forward and brings her back to sit with their family, resting a hand on her shoulder as the rest of the mourners paid their respects. Nyssa is aware of them all, even in her grief. She already knows that Sara’s team is keeping watch for whoever did this in the crowd, so she can mourn the loss of her lover.

She’s thankful to Quentin for including her with the family as he drags her to the reception full of more people in black. She’s never felt quite so lost until this moment. When Sara left the league for the first time, the need to find her and bring her back had overpowered her grief, but now there is no chance of her returning. Back home, white is the color of mourning. All the black is too normal, too common for her after a life with the League as it feels as if her world is ending.  

Felicity Smoak hands her a cup of tea as people Nyssa never knew about speak condolences to Sara’s parents and sister. She stands between Quentin and Felicity, staring at the amber liquid in her china cup.

She wants her weapons, her uniform so she can search the streets for the person who did this and can teach them what it means to cross the League of Assassins. This grief should not exist. Her canary should still be alive and by her side.

Oliver Queen and his bodyguard are the first to include Nyssa in their condolences. To her, both nod in acknowledgement of her pain. “We’re already working on finding him,” Oliver whispers, eyes landing on Felicity. His words are pitched low because of their audience. “Felicity will stay here with you and take you back to the lair. We’ll meet you there.”

She watches them walk away, turning to the blonde beside her. “Let us leave now.”

Felicity glances around her and Nyssa senses a presence at her shoulder.

“I’m going with you.”

“Laurel...” Felicity warns, a note of steel in her voice that Nyssa did not expect her to be capable of. “You heard what Oliver said, earlier. You’re not getting involved in this.”

“She was _my_ sister.” Laurel growls, earning her nervous looks from her parents.

“Laurel, you’re too close to this.” Felicity argues, eyes darting around the room.

“And _she’s_ not?”

Nyssa allows a dangerous smile to grace her face, her dark eyes glinting. “They know that to try to stop me would result in only pain for them.”

“Then take me with you.” She grabs Nyssa’s arm, fingers digging in.

With a twist of her wrist, the master assassin forces Laurel to release her hand and has her arm twisted behind her back. “You are not trained. You would only get hurt and Taer Asafer would not want you involved. She cared about you too much. You will remain here and safe, as she would want.” She turns to Felicity. “Let us head to your lair.”

“No! I’m coming with you!” This time she reaches for Felicity, but again Nyssa grabs her, this time spinning her so she falls to her knees.

“I am sorry, but you are needed here. Family is important in times of sorrow. You can lean on each other and you will be better for it.”

“Who are you again?” Dinah Lance asks, brow furrowed as she watches her older daughter sob from where she landed on the floor.

“I am Nyssa, daughter of Raj al Ghul, heir to the demon.” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “And I loved your daughter with all my heart.”

She leaves them with that information that shreds her soul, leading the way from the building knowing Felicity will follow her. She has a job to complete now and she will not leave until her lover’s murderer is buried in the cold, hard ground.


	3. In the Basement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while. I'll be posting two more short chapters after this just to wrap it up.

**In the Basement**

Felicity sifts through the files pulled up by her latest searches, but nothing helpful is coming up. She pulls her glasses from her face, pinching the bridge of her nose as she blinks back more tears. She doesn’t want to cry...again. She won’t but she’s frustrated. She can’t find any archers who were apparently not skilled enough to kill Sara. Nyssa insists that it’s not a member of the League; they would not risk her wrath, but Felicity hates herself for not finding anything now, when this is so important.

“Hey! Blondie, why don’t we get some food? I haven’t had anything since breakfast.” Roy leans against her desk, arms crossed. He’s a little fuzzy around the edges without her glasses. “Come on! You’re not getting anywhere. Maybe Nyssa and Oliver will find something, but until they get back, let’s get some fuel. I don’t know about you, but I can’t work on an empty stomach.”

She glances back at her screens. “No. I should stay. I need to keep looking.”

Roy plops into an accompanying chair, lifting his legs onto her desk and leaning back, hands bracing his head. Felicity slaps his feet down with one hand, using the other to fix her glasses on her head before shooting a glare at the teen.

“Respect the computers: no feet on the table.”

He holds his hands in the air in surrender. “Okay, okay. But I just want you to know, until you take a break for food, I’m just going to be here...starving...stomach growling...sooooo hungry...”

She rolls her eyes, starting a new search for viable subjects. “If you’re hungry there’s protein bars in the corner.”

Roy pulls a face. “You do realize you can’t live off that stuff, right? I’m talking _real_ food here, Blondie. Like big juicy burgers with greasy fries: The good stuff.”

“Well, the _good_ stuff is giving me a big belly, so I should probably be eating more salads.”

He snorts derisively. “Rabbit food.”

“Well, for you it might be rabbit food, but you also spend most of your day exercising, so I guess you burn it all off. I sit here behind this computer and don’t do anything all day.” She falters as she remembers her training with Sara. Sara always told her she would need to eat more food as she worked out more. She single-handedly restocked Felicity’s entire kitchen with actual healthy food, insisting she eat well.  A sob fights its way out of her mouth as she blinks back tears.

Roy is instantly by her side. His hand hovers in the air over her back for a moment before coming to rest on her shoulder. She turns into him, pulling him into a hug that he only resists for a moment. His red sweatshirt is surprisingly absorbent and she feels bad for a moment, but she needs this human comfort. She needs physical contact right now and heaven knows no one else is going to volunteer.

She pulls back after a few minutes, well aware of the tears covering her face and the snot dripping down her nose. She wasn’t exactly a pretty crier. She’s painfully aware of that fact right now, as she grabs handfuls of tissues from the box perched on her desk, grimacing at the sheer number of times she has to loudly blow her nose.

“Come on, Blondie,” Roy prods gently, guiding her away from the computers and up the stairs without much resistance.  

She hands over her keys when he asks for them and he drives her home, staying with her to watch Firefly because he promised her he would months ago and neither of them really wants to be alone. He makes popcorn as she sets up her Netflix account between shouted instructions on just how long he was supposed to pop the popcorn because she didn’t want it to get burnt. Without her noticing, he pockets her phone and sends Oliver a text, letting him know where they are. Oliver responds quickly, asking Roy to keep an eye on her.

Roy rolls his eyes. He didn’t even need the order. He wasn’t about to leave Blondie alone to deal with this. They’d both been hurting, they were both mourning Sara and their broken hearts. In the end, the two of them fell asleep on the couch within minutes of each other and neither noticed the hooded green figure who checked in on them later, covering them both with a blanket before slipping back out the window to patrol the streets once more.


	4. From the Rooftop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprising Olicity feels. It just happened...

**From the Rooftop**  

The wind’s chill assaults his face as Oliver stares out over his city. Today had been too much. This _week_ had been too much. And it wasn’t getting better. Nyssa was convinced Malcolm Merlyn had been the one to kill Sara, but he wasn’t so sure. Was Malcolm capable of it? Definitely, but Oliver had seen the truth in his eyes, and he wouldn’t execute a man who might be innocent. Was it really that horrible of him?

His eyes lower to Felicity’s window one more time, taking in the flicker of light from her television. He can make out the two silhouettes’ on the couch and wishes he was there with her, mourning together the loss of her friend. Instead, he has to watch from a distance. Knowing it’s his choice, doesn’t make it any less painful.

He lost both Felicity and Sara in a matter of days. Nevermind the fact that he lost them in two different ways, they were just as unreachable. He had taken Sara’s advice to heart. He was sure that he could have a life with the blonde IT girl who stole his heart without him realizing it. Now it was all crumbling down around him.

Despite how much he knows he need to leave, to walk away from the ledge, he moves in the opposite direction. He slips through her window, silent as a shadow as he pulls the blanket over their sleeping forms, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head. He blinks back the returning tears and leaves without looking back.

She’s all there is for him. He knows that now. He knew it the moment he saw her in the hospital with Lyla and the baby. He can’t hold on to her because he can’t be what she deserves, no matter what Sara might have thought. Yes, she makes him better. Yes, she’s helped shape him into the hero he is today. And yes, she always believes in him no matter what. But he can’t be two people. He cannot be Oliver Queen and the Arrow no matter how much he wants that.

 _Sara...how did you think this would work out? Because I can’t see it right now._ Oliver lands outside the foundry and slips into the basement, his mind still back in the apartment with Felicity. He returns his bow to its stand and pours himself a drink. He raises it in a salute. _This is for you, Sara._  

He drains it in a single swallow. _I miss you._


	5. The Bird in the Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter is a tear-jerker, so sorry in advance. 
> 
> Please PLEASR comment to let me know what you think!

**The Bird in the Sky**

It was a weird felling, watching everyone you love mourn you from outside your body. She can touch them, but they can’t feel her there. That’s probably the worst part about going to your own funeral, Sara reflects as she jumps to sit on top of a gravestone a little behind Nyssa.

“I suppose I should say I’m sorry, baby, for what happened,” she whispers, reaching out to run a hand over Nyssa’s silky black hair. She wishes with all her heart she could run her hands through that black silk and pull Nyssa in for one last kiss. “I didn’t see it coming, and then...”

She trails off, lost in the memories until another shape joins them.

“Oh, look, Nys! You’ve got some company. Another cute blonde. But I wouldn’t go after her. Oliver and her...they’ve got a thing. One of those once in a lifetime things that we had.” The joking smile slips off her face. “I really am sorry, Nys. I didn’t mean to...I never meant...I was never going to leave you alone again. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.”  

She firmly believes that. Sure, as an assassin she’s more aware of death than others, but somehow she didn’t think her life would end on that rooftop. She still doesn’t understand it. She doesn’t know if there actually is anything to understand, but she knows one thing: they’re all hurting and they will all try to avenge her death. She just doesn’t think any of them will succeed, but not for lack of trying.

Sara bounces around for a while, following her parents as they try to say goodbye for a second time, until she can’t bear it anymore and she find Laurel, clutching her jacket to her chest as she sobs uncontrollably.

And since she can’t seem to figure out what else she’s supposed to be doing in her afterlife, she decides to tag along with the team, they’re the only ones actually doing anything through their grief at the moment. She wants to tell them that they’re wrong. It’s not Malcolm, as easy as it would be to blame him. Once again, she attempts to hug Nyssa after Oliver lets Malcolm go, but Nyssa passed right through her like she’s smoke and the tears fall down her face. She collapses into a puddle of a ghost on the floor of the warehouse sobbing.

“Oh, come on, Lance. I thought you were stronger than that.”

She starts at the male voice, jerking her head up and around, already dropping into a fighting stance as her eyes meet the distinctive gray eyes of Tommy Merlyn. He smirks at her. “We’re already dead, so I don’t know what you intend to do.”

She relaxes, feeling her eyes bug out of her head. “Tommy?”

He chuckles, grabbing her hand and pulling her into a hug. “It’s good to see you too, Sara.”

“How are you here?” She chokes on the words, surprised how happy she is to see him, but it might just be because she’s happy not to be alone anymore.

“I died a year and a half ago. Welcome to the Land of the Dead!” He pulls back and gestures around them.

Sara pales. She couldn’t be stuck here for all eternity, living like a shadow. She can’t just stay here, watching everyone she loves go through so much pain and then move on with their lives. She wouldn’t be able to stand it. This must be her own personal hell.

Tommy lets out a belting laugh. “I’m just kidding, Sara. I’m kidding.” He throws an arm over her shoulder, pulling her into his side. “I’m just here as your spirit guide, so to speak.”

“ _You’re_ my spirit guide?”

“Really? Lance? Is that judgment in your tone? I’m just trying to help you here.” He sighs. “Fine. You said goodbye to everyone yet?”

“What? That’s it? I just say goodbye and then leave?”

“Weren’t you just freaking out about staying?”

“Yeah, but...” She glances around. “I was kind of hoping to see how the story ends.”

He chuckles. “Don’t worry, Lance. You and I? We’ve got front row seats to the rest of this roller coaster.”

“Really?” She raises a skeptical eyebrow and Tommy smirks, leaning in conspiratorially.

“Spoiler: Oliver’s daughter and Laurel’s son have a thing, and Oliver is every inch the overprotective dad.”

“No way!”

“I swear! It’s true.” Tommy holds his hands up in surrender.

“Oliver has kids? Wait, let me guess: Felicity’s the mother.”

Tommy shakes his head. “You’re skipping all the good parts. Like the dates, the proposal, the actual wedding...”

“So how long does it take him to ask? Wait! Who does Laurel marry?”

“Do you want me to ruin all the surprises, Lance? As for how long it takes him, sometimes I wish I could smack him upside the head or just lock them in a closet, but those are two things you can’t do as a ghost.” The smile slips from Tommy’s face as he turns to face Sara. “So, what do you say? Ready to go?”

She takes a deep breath and then nods. “Lead the way, Merlyn.” And suddenly the world is enveloped in white and all she feels is peace, blissful peace.


End file.
